But ‘wayminute’, backup, Mary I need you to listen to me good, because this is not your formal intervention but it sorta kinda is. Ok, peep this… It is time out for crispy chicken wraps and table top dancing at Burger King.

It is time out for singing to “presidential candidates like you are auditioning for the live version of the Whiz” (Note to Mary: the show already aired). Holed up in a clandestine Doubletree hotel and passing it off as an Apple interview. (Did ya’ll see that?)

So, now, here’s what you ARE gonna do. Imma need you to remember the Queen that you are. And no, I am not going to call you the queen of Hip Hop and R&B. Why? Because your Majesty is bigger than that.

You are a chip off the proverbial “Black Mother Earth sitting high on Cleopatra’s throne” that just happened to burst from the projects to grace us with your saccharine laced melancholy which we can’t do without when you actually remember who and whose you are!

And why is this necessary? Well because despite the fact that Kendu should just take the “L” and move on (we wish him well and we wish he remembers his ancestral DNA too), we NEED your voice.

We need that spirit that is underneath the residue of your most recent breakup. That spirit reminds us of how triumphant we are and how resilient we are. There has been a soulless commercial hijacking of a musical tradition black people created that has been replaced by nursery rhyme, drug induced say-nothings.

Hence why we need the MJBs of the world to power through and rise again to give us that “kick out with the long boots, head-bop bounce dancery that you do like only you can do.”

Anything else would be uncivilized and ain’t nobody got time for that.